


A Rescue Mission

by Scotsomighty



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Purple Hawke, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7676614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotsomighty/pseuds/Scotsomighty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke crashes yet another Orlesian garden party with the company or Varric, Aveline and Fenris. Fenris was aware of his protective nature of Hawke, especially around slimy Orlesians, but it didn't help that they had to dress the part.<br/>Act two, Pre-relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rescue Mission

It started as adventures usually did with Hawke.   
  
She had received a letter one night from one of the families in hightown, The Aronbergs. They needed the Champions help, but they had to meet privately, for it was a personal matter. She brought it before her companions, all sitting at a round table in The Hanged Man. Whenever Hawke had a mission they gathered there, so they more or less claimed for their own at this point. It wasn't busy that morning, the place quieter than its usual ruckus.   
  
“What kind of dirt could that family make to ask you for help?” Isabella asked after the letter was passed around, leaning on the back wall beside the table, arms crossed.     
  
“Well they’re Orlesian-” Varric pointed out, referring to the seal on the letter. The group collectively nodded and hummed as the little comment explained the urgency.   
  
“Never question Hightown residence and their issues.” Fenris muttered as he leant back in his chair. Being up in his borrowed mansion he heard lots of gossip. Who slept with who, what deals at the market they made, who’s making more money--it was all they talked about.   
“They’re noisy.”   
  
“Well whatever it is, who’s free for this one?” Hawke asked looking around the table. A select sum turning away.   
  
“A chance to hear Hightown gossip? Count me in.” Varric smirked in his content manner. He never missed a story opportunity--that's probably why he went with Hawke most of the time.   
  
“Sorry, love, busy today.” Isabella shrugged lazily. “Got a lead down at the docks. Can’t miss.”   
  
Hawke huffed, looking at the rest. “Merrill, Anders-what about you two?”   
  
“Hawke you know I’m working on my Manifesto.” Anders frowned. The man had been locking himself up down in Darktown for awhile now, looking worse for wear to put it lightly.    
  
“So I can see by the dark circles under your eyes.” smirked Hawke, Varric adding a chuckle as well.   
  
Anders just shook his head.  “Sorry, another time.”   
  
“And Merrill, I assume you’re busy too?” Hawke turned to the petite elf who looked sadly up to her.   
  
“Yes. I’m sorry--But I hope everything goes alright.” She smiled and Hawke nodded, resting her hands at her hips.   
  
“Alright then, how about you, Fenris?” Hawke turned to the elf who was sipping from his mug beside her. The tension between them was high, their relationship complicated but never acted on yet--still, Hawke liked having him around. He was close to her, and had her trust.     
  
“Of course, Hawke.. It’s close to home, if anything. I might as well.” He shrugged, pushing the mug back and standing to join her.   
  
Hawke smiled to him before turning back to the table, waiting for Varric as he put some coin down for the tab.   
  
“Right-we can get Aveline later, I'm sure she’ll be interested if it's anything illegal.”   
  
And out the small trusted party went back up to Hightown. Hawke was in the front, as usual, while Varric and Fenris walked a few steps behind.   
  
“So, what do we know about this family?” Varric asked, looking among the two people who live in the area.   
  
“Well they made up from their last argument a month ago, that's for sure.” Hawke shuttered. She really needed to buy those curtains, she thought to herself.   
  
Varric arched a brow to her, but Fenris hummed in thought at the question himself.   
  
“They were bickering recently..” He mused. “In the market, I overheard them talking in hushed tones..The woman wanted to find help but the man cursed and refused.”   
  
“Well I know who won that argument.” Hawke glanced behind her to the men and they both nodded in agreement. “But what could be so bad that they came to us for?”   
  
The question lingered in all their minds as they made their way to the estate. Once through the courtyard they walked up to the home and gave the door a knock before being let in by the house steward. Hawkes companions had to wait in the parlor, but the Steward lead the Champion through the house and into the office of Sir Aronberg. Inside the husband sat at his desk as the wife paced anxiously.   
  
“The Champion, Messere.” The Steward bowed and closed the door behind her, Hawke walking up to the couple.   
  
“Ah--So you have received our letter. Zis is good news indeed.” The wife sighed, walking up to greet Hawke, the husband soon followed. They were alike any other Orlesian couple: wealthy dressed, not a spec of dirt on them and well groomed. The wife had dark hair but the man was starting to gray around his temples.   
  
“Serah, I'm afraid we have no time to treat you as we do all guests. Zis is an urgent matter.” The man said sternly, standing beside his wife.   
  
“Don't tell me--The wine cellar has been raided, or maybe the fine cheeses are gone?” Hawke replied sarcastically. The man shook his head, frowning at the lack of seriousness.   
  
“As unfortunate as zose particements sound, Serah-zis is much dire.”   
  
“Oh please, Champion-” The wife stepped up, on the brink of tears under all her makeup. “Our daughter, she has been taken!”   
  
Now this interested Hawke, maybe this wasn't a waste of time after all.   
  
“Do you know by whom?” She asked, looking between the couple. Lady Aronberg sniffled and buried her head in her husband's shoulder, the man wrapping an arm around her to comfort her.   
  
“Yes. Our rival, ze Plourde family. Zey ‘ave a coastal manner, and are ‘osting zeir annual party to celebrate zeir oyster business. Its ‘arvest season.”   
  
“Any ideas on how I can get into this party?”   
  
“Why--you are ze Champion of Kirkwall, Serah! Zey will let you in with open arms! But, if not, ‘ere is a party invitation they send to any worthy of joining.”   
  
Hawke took the small letter of invitation from the man, looking it over before arching her brow questionably.   
  
“And why would they send an invite to you if you’re rivals?”   
  
“Are you kidding?-- A party is not a party without drama, and it’s a way to boast of zeir success!” The man scoffed, stroking his beard in a dignified manner.     
  
“Right..” Hawke looked back to the letter before putting it away, nodding to the couple. “We’ll get your daughter back as soon as possible.”   
  
“Oh-Zank you, Serah!” The wife sniffled again, calling on her steward to show Hawke out.   
  
Hawke met back up with her companions at the door. Varric, who was leaning on the stone wall with his arms crossed, pushed off and walked up to her.   
  
“Well?” He asked, Fenris following up behind him.   
  
“Well it’s a kidnapping. Their daughter is supposedly taken by the Plourde family-”   
  
“--Great oysters.” Varric added, sharing a glance back to Fenris.   
  
“--And we have to go to their manner during their harvest party and get her back somehow.”   
  
“So this is espionage.” Fenris huffed, watching the dwarf rubbing his hands together as he schemed.   
  
“Right, so it’s settled. Let’s stop at my estate to get a few things, fetch Aveline, and we go.” Hawke resolved before they all walked out, heading for her home.   


* * *

  
  
“No no no no no!” The bearded dwarf shook his hands, stopping Hawke and the rest before they could leave her home and herding them back into her living room.   
  
“Bodan what's the problem?” Hawke asked as her dwarf servant stopped her, Varric and Fenris exchanging glances before looking back to the man.   
  
“Messere-You cannot simply walk into an event like this with your armor! If you are to not stand out you need to be dressed up as well!”   
  
Hawke groaned but Varric sighed, turning and standing before her. “He makes sense, Hawke. We’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”   
  
The woman grumbled. “Oh all right. Mother bought me a dress when she was still trying to marry me off-I’ll go get it.”   
  
As Hawke stomped back upstairs to her quarters Bodan turned and smiled to Fenris. “Your turn, Mr. Elf.”   
  
Fenris frowned and his brows knit to the dwarf, head tilting back a bit. “Excuse me?”   
  
“You _are_ in armor, aren't you? You need to change too.” Bodan clamped his hands together and behind him Varric chuckled.   
  
Fenris grimaced, ears slanting. “I think not! What of an attack comes and we are in cloths?”   
  
“Hey, I survived.” Varric offered, Fenris growled.   
  
“And what about Aveline? Will she not be forced to change as well?”   
  
“She’s the Guard Captain, broody. I dont think anyone will approach her. Period.”   
  
“My armor stays.” Fenris put bitterly, turning back to the bearded dwarf, Bodan nodding respectively.   
  
“I understand messere. Dont worry-my boy has the solution for you!” The dwarf beamed.   
  
Fenris looked over to the younger dwarf who walked up to him, lifting a runestone up to him.   
  
“Enchantments.” Sandal said acknowledgingly.   
  
Fenris arched a brow to the dwarf and took the black runestone and looked it over. At that time Hawke came out of her chamber and rushed down the stairs.   
  
“Okay okay let’s go-” She said with haste and strided past them, adjusting her armor as she walked.   
  
Varric smirked and followed. Fenris took another glance at the stone before putting it in one of his hip pouches and quickly following Hawke, the two dwarves waving as they left.   


* * *

  
  
“Why do I keep letting you pull me away from my job?” Aveline groused, following behind the rest as they walked down the forested road that would lead them to the Plourde manner.   
  
“Because the chance of arresting a kidnapper is too good to be true?” Hawke offered in a call over her shoulder.   
  
“It probably is.” The redhead grumbled under her breath.     
  
They walked from the wounded coast the a forested area near the shore, walking the dirt path that lead to the fisheries and farms. It was a lush forest, but the estate peeked through the trees in the distance. Soon the party was stopped at the front gate of the manner and a man walked up to them. He looked them over skeptically with all that armor, and lifted his head poshly.   
  
“Evening, serahs. Can I ‘elp you?” The man asked, hands holding behind his back. His thin moustache mounted under his long nose making him resemble a rat.   
  
“Yes, I have been invited to this Harvest. I am the Champion of Kirkwall, afterall, who wouldn't want me?” Hawke joked with a shrug and a tilt of her head.   
  
“Ah, ze Champion of Kirkwall?” The man looked surprised. Hawke passed over the invitation and he nodded promptly. “Yes-yes welcome, serah! We are ‘appy to ‘ave you.” He bowed and lead them in.   
  
Hawke looked around the large garden courtyard as she walked in through the gates, past the large hedges. The mass of the guests were dancing, a small string band sitting in the corner and playing waltzing melodies. Hawke scanned the crowd and nodded toward the man in the middle of the dance. “There-That's Sir Plourde. We’ll wait for the dance to be over and chase him down.”   
  
“No can do, Hawke. Its too easy for him to slip away if we wait. Going in now will trap him in there.” Varric pointed out.   
  
“And we can't go in a group--Too suspicious.” Avaline added, looking around herself.   
  
Hawke sighed and looked back to the dance. “I hate to say it, but you're right. We’ll split up then: Varric and Aveline go around to anyone not dancing and try to get whatever information you can. Me and Fenris will have to go in.”   
  
“In the dance?” Fenris responded in a quip before scoffing. “What makes you think I know how to waltz?”   
  
“Fenris it's you or nothing. Varric far too short for a dance partner and Aveline would probably trample me.”   
  
Varric turned to Fenris and shrugged. “It’s a curse, I know.” Aveline just shook her head.   
  
Fenris bit the inside of his cheek and turned away, cursing under his breath. “Fine.”   
  
“Right. Meet the rest of you later.” Hawke nodded, and watched as Varric and Aveline walk off. Hawke then turned on her heel and walked back toward the large stone home. Fenris grudgingly following.   
  
“Where are you off to, Hawke?” Fenris asked, catching up with her. It was sort of nice, to be beside her for once rather than in the back.   
  
“To change. We have to blend in, remember?” Hawke stopped before one of the servant girls, Fenris standing aback and looking the girl with some resentment given his past, but of course this was not to her, rather than her serves.   
  
“I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, fair elf, but can you take me inside for a short moment? I have to put on my dress, the travel didnt allow me a chance to do so.”   
  
“Of course, Messere. Do you need any assistance?” The young elf asked, putting the tray she held aside and facing Hawke.   
  
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Hawke nodded and the elf began to lead the way. Hawke turned quickly back to Fenris. “I’m going to see what I can find inside while I change. Guard the door.”   
  
Fenris huffed, watching Hawke disappear behind the door of the estate and crossing his arms, standing outside it. His menacing attitude kept passersby away, going around him and not even glancing until they passed. Fenris groaned inwardly, looking around the party. He loathed being in settings like this, reminding him of his past, but he promised to follow and help Hawke anywhere, so that is what he did.   
  
He glanced back to the door behind him. Hawke was taking quite a while changing, wasn't she? Fenris pondered the words of her servant dwarf and pulled out the rune from his pouch. He looked the thing over again with slanted lips before activating it, watching as the color from the rock started to bleed away and fade. The elfs leather armor soon melted into black and the metal breastplate darkened. Fenris looked over himself, humming in surprise and dragging his fingers over it, but it didn't stain his flesh. What a strange spell, he thought. Perhaps the child had more tricks than he appeared.   
  
“Woah, Fenris what happened?”   
  
Just then Hawke walked out from the door and they were caught in each other’s gaze. It was hard to say if Hawke’s cheeks reddened because of her own embarrassment or how her eyes looked over Fenris’s new look. Fenris couldn't say much for himself, however, his eyes running over the details of her dress. He felt a heat under his collar he has suppressed for a long time now, but seeing her now was making that very difficult.   
  
She was in a red and cream colored gown, elegant and long. It had a corset top and Fenris wondered if Hawke was always this curvaceous-if so her armor did a damn good job covering it. Her shoulders were bare that came down to sleeves that went up to her wrists and ended in the same cream colored lace. The red matched the streak across her nose and everything just made her blue eyes stand out even more.   
  
Fenris then blinked out of the gaze in confusion as she bowed before him, curtsying.     
  
“Might I say, you look rather fetching today, messere.” She lifted her head and smirked up to him, revealing her jest. He quirked a brow and looked away in a curt laugh.   
  
“You really have this noble thing down, don't you?” He crossed his arms, watching from the corner of his eye as she laughed and hooked her arm around his, keeping her head forward and acting normal in the setting of the party. Fenris stiffened for a brief moment at her touch, but relaxed into it.   
  
“I think you forget who my mother is--she would sit me down and lecture me about this way of living, y’know. What about you, did you get soot dumped on you?” She asked, doing as Fenris did a moment ago by dragging her fingers over the leather and looking back at her fingers for a mark.   
  
“No. It was a rune Sandal gave me before we left.” He mused, watching her and noting how she held his arm before looking away, picking out people from the crowd with his eyes.   
  
“I like it.” Hawke hummed, starting to walk with him back to the dance.   
  
“You look…-ahem, good. As well.” Fenris said as he cleared his throat, keeping his face turned away from her. Hawke glanced up to the reddening tips of his ears and smiled to herself.   
  
Once they walked to the edge of the dance she turned back to him. “You ready?” She asked.   
  
He stood silent a moment, watching the steps the guests made. “Its..Familiar, at least.” He grumbled.   
  
Hawke chuckled and took his hand, leading him in. “I’ll lead.” She smirked, glancing back to him. “And once you think you got it we’ll switch.”   
  
Fenris frowned but followed her as he was dragged in. He held her hand and placed his other hand at her side, pausing as she place her hand at his shoulder, before they joined the swaying music.   
  
Fenris kept his eyes on his feet for a while, grumbling and frowning before he heard Hawke laugh, looking up to her in a grunt.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Fenris you can't look down at your feet.” She grinned, arching a brow to him. “It makes it seem you’re staring into my chest.”   
  
His eyebrows shot up and he flushed. “What--no I..” He then frowned and turned his face away, uttering travinter curses under his breath.   
  
Hawke held back another laugh and lead as all the pairs all turned and bent at the knees before starting again. Fenris still tripped a bit here and there, but he was getting the hang of it quickly and started to take over, leading and spinning Hawke.   
  
In that short moment of a time, things felt..peaceful. Fenris held Hawke, looking into her eyes and they danced and floated along with the music. It felt..Right. How his hand fit into place at her hip, just having the moment to admire the details of her face. She didn't look away from him, either. But, alas, the dreamlike moment abruptly ending as he got a tap on the shoulder, blinking out of it. He turned to see Sir Plourde himself smiling charmingly.   
  
“Might I ‘ave zis next dance, Champion?” The man ignored Fenris, smiling warmly to Hawke.   
  
Fenris’s initial reaction was to frown, not wanting to let go of her for some odd reason, but Hawke smiled and responded for him, pulling her arms away.   
  
“Why of course, Sir Plourde.” Hawke greeted and walked up to him, curtsying to him before they joined in dance.   
  
Fenris bit the inside of his cheek and turned back to his next partner, and elderly woman who smiled to him kindly, and starting the dance again.   
  
He kept his ears open, glancing over his shoulder when he could to the pair and dancing as close as he could without arousing suspicion.   
  
“Never would I ‘ave guessed ze Champion of Kirkwall would be so lovely.” He spoke in a husky tone.   
  
“Sir Plourde, you’re too much!” Hawke giggled, but Fenris could hear her sarcasm and false interest.   
  
Fenris frowned as he noticed how the man's hand was lower than usual dance position on her hip-and how his eyes lowered so casually to her chest and her body. It made his stomach turn and his blood boil. He could see the plastered smile on Hawke’s lips as well, but if it meant saving a life she bore anything.   
  
“You like her, don't you?” The woman said, Fenris looking back to her rather than his distracance.   
  
“Pardon?”   
  
The woman laughed softly to herself. “Dear elf, you keep looking over there, and dancing like you’ve forgotten all the steps. Something else is on your mind, isn’t there?”   
  
He bit his cheek and glanced away. Well, he couldn't tell her he was out to corner Sir Plourde and demand answers on the missing daughter of his rival, and that he’d just learn to dance, could he? Before he could answer, however, the woman hummed and nodded her head.   
  
“I understand, elf. We’ve all been in love before.”   
  
Fenris withheld a sigh. Better let her just believe, he thought. Before he knew it the dance was over and he quickly looked around. Hawke and Sir Plourde was nowhere to be seen.   
  
“Fasta vas--” Fenris cursed and rushed out of the dancefloor, coming to the edge of the dance and looking around. At the edge of the party Fenris caught at the last second a door coming to a close. He ran up to it and followed in, closing the door gently behind him as he followed.   
  
With the black armor he melted into the shadows with ease and was able to sneak past many servants and other party goers. He dismissed the arguments the chefs had over something being overdone and the banter of a couple who lost something, listening carefully for Hawkes footsteps he was so used to hearing, and her loud laughing or conversation. He followed her voice down hallways and corridors until he caught up to them, seeing a door close behind her and lock. He growled and ran up to the door, turning the nob, but it was indeed locked.   
  
He grit his teeth and was about to turn out to look for another way in before suddenly remembering something Varric asked him. He turned back to the lock and lifted his hand before it, the lyrium markings sparking to life. He reached into the door and grabbed the lock and tearing the whole thing out, leaving an agaping hole in the door. Fenris chucked the lock behind him and pushed the door open, venturing in as his lyrium faded.   
  
He heard a crash and the man curse, picking up his pace down the flight of stairs. When he reached the end of the stairs Hawke was facing the man with a grimace and her arms open like she did when she was getting ready for battle, her back to Fenris. The room looked to be Sir Plourde’s personal quarters or office, lit by the fireplace and a chandelier.   
  
“What are you going to do, Champion? Without your armor and weapons what threat are you to me?” The man laughed openly.   
  
“Hawke!” Yelled Fenris with a growl as he dashed past her and charged at the man.   
  
“Fenris-” Hawke gasped and watched as the elf slam the man against the far wall, taking him by the collar and lifting him off his feet, his other hand glowing with his lyrium. He glanced over his shoulder and suddenly the room began to fill will hired guards--all ready to fight. The bastard must have called for them or alerted them somehow. Hawke looked left and right but the two were undoubtedly surrounded. Fenris cursed under his breath and slammed the man against the wall, knocking the man out before dashing back to her.   
  
“Hawke-” He called, pulling the sword off his back and tossing it to her. She caught it and held it up before her. Fenris’s markings sparked to life and he lifted his hands like claws in front of himself. The two were back to back and soon the battle ignited. Fenris and his lean body dodged attacks before shoving his hand into body after body, grabbing hearts, spines, even men’s esophagus and giving them a yank, bodies falling to his feet. Behind him Hawke slashed and stabbed many as well, her dress splashed with a red that dyed the cream lace and melted into the red, making it darker and sticky. When the fight was over Fenris’s arms were coated in blood, but Hawke no less better, some attacks getting past her blocks and giving her another few cuts that tore her dress. Fenris looked over his hits before the ones on her. He reached into one of his pouches pulled out a small round bottle of red liquid, handing it to her.   
  
“Dont you need one too?” Hawke asked in a frown but took the bottle, giving it a chug. He looked just as exhausted as she did, but he shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but the sound of a groan stole both their attention.   
  
Sir Plourde had stirred and sat up, rubbing his head before his eyes shot open and he shuffled back against the wall, Fenris and Hawke approaching him.   
  
“Well Hawke? Make it quick.” Fenris snarled, leaning down and pulling the man up to his feet forcefully, his hand aglow again and ready.   
  
Hawke nodded stepped intimidatingly close to Sir Plourde with an angry frown.   
  
“Where’s the girl, Sir Plourde?” She hissed, Fenris gripping him harder.   
  
“W-w-what are you talking about?!” The man stuttered with fear.   
  
“The Aronbergs daughter--I dont have time for your games.” Hawke crossed her arms, eyes narrowing at the man.   
  
“O-o-okay okay! I’ll speak! She came to me a month ago! She’s my chef, alright?!”   
  
“Your chef?” Hawkes voice questioned, losing a bit of its aggression. Fenris glanced over to her and huffed, letting the man go and watching as he fell to his knees.   
  
“Sh-she’s an aspiring seafood cook, why come to anyone but me?” He looked between Hawke and Fenris who exchanged looks before looking back to him.   
  
“Take me to her.” Hawke commanded, crossing her arms again.   
  
“Y-yes alright.” The man shakily stood and fumbled over to his stairs again. Fenris sneered and walked behind him, giving him a shove to hurry up.   
  
The Orlesian lead them through the servants quarters and the the main kitchen where it stenched of seafood and seasonings. A woman who was wiping her hands down with a cloth approached. She looked between Hawke and Fenris, their filthy appearance causing the girl to hesitate.     
  
“What's wrong, messere? She asked with a frown, Hawke stepping up to her, but slowly as to not scare her.   
  
“Are you the daughter of Sir Aronberg?” She asked, to which the girl immediately rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her fear of Hawke lackthereof now.   
  
“Ugh-what do mother and father want zis time?”   
  
Hawke looked to Fenris and back, arching a brow at the girl.   
  
“Well, they think you’re kidnapped, for one.”   
  
“I was not kidnapped--I ran away. Zey hated ze idea of me being a chef despite it being my passion. And mother is allergic to shellfish! I ‘ad to leave.”   
  
“So why come here, to Sir Plourde?” Fenris asked, lip curled at the slimy man who stood aside,  too afraid to move.   
  
“What better way to spite them.” The girl shrugged. Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, sighing deeply.   
  
“A great waste of time. C’mon Fenris, let's find the others.” Hawke turned and walked herself out.   
  
On their way to the courtyard Hawke glanced to Fenris for a moment before looking back. The walk was uncomfortable--not only being splattered with blood, but how the elf sulked and brooded, hard enough to feel it in the air. Something was obviously upsetting him.   
  
“Nice timing.” She cleared her throat.   
  
“That was dangerous, Hawke.” He scolded lowly.   
  
“I have a knife hidden against my leg, Fenris. It’s not like I was helpless--”   
  
“And if he managed to tear it away from you? Or if he had called his guards even so?” He snarled, snapping at her. His jaw tightened as he turned away. “You could have been killed, Hawke!”   
  
Hawke watched him carefully, how he glared off and his ears sloped, walking with haste. She remained silent after that, thinking to herself. It gave time for Fenris to think too, and recognize how stubborn they both were. He grumbled and closed his fists reluctantly.   
  
“..It was ill of me to suggest you aren't able to protect herself...My words were..of the moment, and I know that you can..I just..” He bit his lip, trying to find the words to explain his rash words, but Hawke stopped the moment when she spoke up.   
  
“No, you’re right.”   
  
Fenris stopped and looked up to her, Hawke stopping behind him, eyes still away in thought before she cracked a sad smile.   
  
“I protect others for a living, I guess my own safety isn’t in the equation. I thought I could take him myself, but if those guards came I would most certainly be dead if not for you.” Hawke then sighed. “Thank you for showing up when you did.”   
  
Fenris’s features seem to relax a bit but he still grumbled silently, and soon they found a door back to the courtyard where they ran into Varric and Aveline.   
  
“Where have you two been? You both look dreadful.” Aveline inquired with her mothering frown.   
  
“Doesn’t matter now, turns out she ran away--not kidnapped.” Hawke explained.   
  
Aveline shook her head. “Of course she did.” She sighed. “Let's get home- the smell of caviar is making me sick.”   
  
Hawke parted to change back into her armor and rejoined a moment later, avoiding other nobles of course, leaving the party out the back and leading the way back home through the lush forest.   
  
It was almost sundown and the walk was quiet but for the soft chatter of the women walking ahead of them. Varric walked alongside Fenris in the back, who was softly glowering at Hawke still.   
  
“Something wrong, elf? You’re brooding more than usual.” There was concern in his voice as he eyed the elf, but that didn't stop the subtle grin on the storytellers lips.   
  
“Nothing.” Fenris grunted. “Just Hawkes carelessness..”   
  
“She's a capable woman, but I'm sure you know that just as much as I.” The dwarf shrugged, pausing a moment before speaking again. “Must have been the battle we missed, what with the shit you were covered in.” He humored, but Fenris merely hummed in response. Varric looked on with Fenris to Hawke.   
  
“She is.” Fenris replied eventually. “I can’t imagine a woman besting her, but it doesn’t change the fact, nor does it excuse it.”   
  
“Look Fenris, Hawke isn’t the sort to think of herself. She puts herself out there without thinking-it’s one of her many charms. If you’re so worried, look after her, then. If she won’t, at least someone will.”   
  
Fenris grew silent and returned his gaze to Hawke. Perhaps the dwarf was right. She has done so much for him already-it was the least he could do.   



End file.
